Cruel Saints

He shakes his head and then takes a threatening step toward me, but when I lift my chin, holding my arms wide to the sides, he pauses.

“I’ll give you one hit, and then I’ll fucking kill you,” I bite the words out. “I dare you, Capone. Take a swing at me.”

Dante clenches his jaw, but knowing he doesn’t stand a chance against me, he backs down.

“Fucking, pussy,” I spit at him. “You’re nothing but a fucking runt.” Knowing I don’t have much self-control left, I order, “Leave.”

Dante’s gaze snaps to Elena, and it has me stepping in front of her, so he has to look at me.

The man has a death wish. I’ll gladly introduce him to his maker.

“She’s mine,” he says as if it should matter to me.

Before thinking it through, I chuckle, “Was.” I shake my head at him. “Does Tino know how you handle his daughter?”

It’s Dante’s turn to laugh.

What the fuck?

Definitely not the reaction I was expecting.

“Tino doesn’t give a shit about her. Careful, Lucian. I’m the one who will take over from Tino.”

The information makes the frown on my forehead deepen. “You can’t take over if you’re dead.”

A confident sneer forms on Dante’s face. “You don’t have the authority to kill me. You’re not the head of la famiglia.”

“Yet,” I mutter. My muscles tense as I close the distance between us until we’re face to face. “You might have Valentino eating out of your hand, but don’t forget I’m Luca Cotroni’s son.”

The reminder has Dante stepping back with a frustrated growl, and sparing me a glare, he reluctantly leaves Elena’s suite.

When I turn around, I see Elena pushing herself up into a sitting position. Wildly her eyes glance around for Dante before they stop on me, and then her lips part as she sucks in a breath of air.

Anger burns through my chest as I move forward and hold my hand out to her. Elena places her trembling palm in mine, and I pull her to her feet.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and it draws my eyes to the bruises forming on the right side of her jaw and around her neck.

“Did he leave?” she asks hoarsely. She keeps looking between the door and the floor. Anywhere but at me.

“Yes.” My anger increases when pure relief washes over her face. Her chin begins to tremble, but she fights to rein in the emotions tightening her features.

I shouldn’t care about this woman. She’s nothing to me. Yet, I find myself gravitating to her, and for the first time, the thought enters my mind – I could marry her. That way, it will be a fuck you to Dante, and it will bring the two families together, showing us as a united front to our enemy.

Keep lying to yourself, Lucian. You fucking want her. The sooner you admit it to yourself, the sooner you can decide what the fuck you’re going to do about it.

Elena begins to look very uncomfortable. Her eyes flit to mine before they lower back to the floor. “Thank you.”

What a fucked up world we live in when a woman has to thank a man for saving her from an asshole?

I let out a sigh and walk to the suite’s phone. Dialing room service, I order crushed ice for Elena’s bruises. When I place the earpiece back, I turn to her and ask, “Are you hurt anywhere else but your face and neck?”

She lifts her hand self-consciously to her jaw then shakes her head.

I know it’s a stupid question to ask, but I can’t stop myself. “Are you okay?”

Of course, she’s not okay. I can feel her distress radiating from her, and she’s deathly pale, but still, she nods.

I only got a glimpse of how Dante treats Elena, and it’s left me with a burning desire to kill the fucker.

How much has she already endured at his depraved hands?

I’ve always prided myself on being in control of everything. It’s the way my father raised me. But since Elena walked into my life, I seem to have very little control over my actions. Once again, I find myself doing something totally out of character as I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her trembling body.

She tenses for a moment, and then the trembling increases as she wraps her arms around my waist. Her hands grip hold of my jacket, her breath hitching. The sound rips through me, wreaking havoc with my own emotions.

I tighten my hold on her, and when I lower my mouth to her hair, I have to close my eyes from the overwhelming protectiveness and attraction this woman makes me feel.

Christ, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

It’s disarming.

I want her.

I want this wounded little bird with her big eyes and body made for sinful nights.